Chapter 14 #2
He could sense that something just happened to his brother.
I didn’t have to tell him. That’s how soul ties worked.
When your connected to someone, you know when something bad has happened to them.
When I found out about my brother, I knew he was dead before my mom even said it.
It was the way she called my name. I never really heard her call it like that before.
That’s what was happening here. Dolo knew, and that’s why he was asking for his brother.
“Baby… they shot him. They fuckin shot him!” I screamed.
“What? Nooooo. Nooooo,” I heard him scream, and then I could hear items in the background falling, leaving me to believe that he was knocking things over.
Through my cries, I was trying to get it out, and tell him everything that just happened, but it was hard to. I was all over the place.
“The paramedics out there?” every word that left his mouth came out like it was painful for him to even speak it.
“Yes. They’re working on him,” I told him.
“Get on there with him. Don’t let my brother get in that fuckin ambulance by himself. Get on that shit with him and let me know where they’re taking him. Stay on the phone with me. I want to hear everything!” he yelled at me.
God, I hoped that Diego was able to shake through this. It wouldn’t end well if he didn’t. I knew that if Diego didn’t make it, Dolo would throw it all away, risk losing everything, just so that he could get at whoever it was that did this.
Meanwhile…. Inside The Black Tahoe
Elijah Montclair
“Elias! No! No! What the fuck are you doing, man? Don’t do this shit to me. Don’t do this shit to me!” I screamed, after rushing to pull the cover over on the side of the road, when I noticed that my brother wasn’t responding to me when I called his name.
Once I pulled the car over, I quickly hopped out, so that I could rush over to his side.
He was slumped over in the passenger seat.
I opened the passenger side door, and right there, you could see the dime size bullet hole on the side of his head.
He had been shot right there, and blood was slowly oozing out.
“Nooooo! What the fuck! Noooo!” I screamed, putting my hands on his shoulders, shaking him. He wasn’t responding back to me. His eyes were open, but they didn’t hold any life to them. He was gone. Gone, and all of this was my fault.
Elias and I had been just a couple of blocks over from where all the food trucks were. Our barber wasn’t too far away from the location. I’d already gotten my cut, and Elias was in the chair at the time, finishing up with his.
While I waited on him to finish with his cut, I was strolling on Instagram.
I followed a lot of the local spots in Miami.
One of the food trucks that were out there, I followed them.
A nigga named Nathen that I went to school with owned the pizza truck out there.
He took a video of the vibes that were going on out there, and in the distance, I was able to see Riot, and Diego.
They weren’t standing too far away from his truck.
I hit that nigga quick, responding back to the story, asking him how long they had been out there.
He wrote back quickly, letting me know that they hadn’t been out there that long, and that they were still waiting on their orders.
Knowing that, I quickly shot a text to my brother from across the room, letting him know what was going on, and how we should slide over there.
Elias wasn’t feeling it. He felt like it was reckless.
He felt like it would be too many innocent people in the way, and he didn’t want to hit any of them.
I told him that this was a good chance to get at Riot, and Dolo’s little brother.
Once he finished up with this haircut, I did some more convincing, and even though it was evident that he wasn’t down for it, Elias has always been the kind of brother that would go to war with me, even when he wasn’t comfortable with something.
He did just that tonight. I forced this man to take this ride with me, and he ended up losing his life.
I felt sick to my stomach because of it.
“I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin sorry,” I cried real tears, looking down at him.
These past few days have been hell for us.
Me, and my brother had to clear out so many accounts, just so that we could put the money together, and be able to pay Eduardo back the money that we owed him.
We couldn’t play around with that. We knew that if we didn’t get him the millions that he wanted, that he would come back, and kill our asses.
We had to take some of our finest jewelry, and pawn that shit.
That’s how deep in the hole we were with this.
We had to sell back a couple of our cars too.
We put together every cent that we had stashed away, and after all of that, we had the money to give to Eduardo.
The plan was to get Eduardo back his shit tomorrow.
We had a plan, man. A plan to start all the way over.
A plan to start from the bottom, and this time, do this drug shit without any handouts.
See, back then, a lot of niggas didn’t respect us as hustlers because everybody felt like we only had the shit that we had because of who our father was.
We wanted to prove that we could come back from this.
We wanted to prove that we had that dog in us just like the rest of the Montclair men.
Now, this nigga left me. Left me out here all alone to figure this shit out on my own.
Something in me just woke up. I didn’t care whether I lived or died after this shit. My brother was killed, and after I finished crying about it and sent him on to rest, I had to go out, and hunt. I was going to kill that bitch Riot, and I was going to kill her nigga too.